


Let’s Get Together

by KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne



Series: ohwiseTrash collabs [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All The Side Characters Are Kid Campers, Alpha Ben Solo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Banter, Ben Is Alpha Steve Harrington, Ben and Rey Are Camp Counselors, Breeding Kink, Capture The Flag Turns Into Capture The Omega, Den Mother Ben, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, G-Rated Poe/Hux, Knotting, Omega Rey (Star Wars), Scenting, Size Difference, Size Kink, Teasing, Teenagers, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyloTrashForever/pseuds/KyloTrashForever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwise1ne/pseuds/ohwise1ne
Summary: “You didn’t tell me,” he murmurs quietly, careful that someone won’t overhear. “That you were a counselor.”“Neither did you.”“I told you it was my job to keep disobedient boys and girls from causing trouble.”“Why, sir.” She directs a sly look at him through her lashes. “Do I look like the sort who would cause trouble?”“You look like you’d never stop. But don’t worry.” He lowers his mouth right beside her ear. “I'd know exactly how to make you behave.”When Ben is roped into a job at his mother’s alpha/omega summer camp, he expects to have an uneventful month full of bad knot jokes and teenage hormones — until a counselor from the Omega side of camp turns his whole summer upside down.





	1. Why Don’t You And I Combine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asongforjonsa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asongforjonsa/gifts).



> Hello! ❤️
> 
> So we’ve been working on this for the last couple weeks, and we’re so excited to share it!
> 
> We have had so much fun with these horny counselors and their adorable little campers — and we hope you love them as much as we do!
> 
> This is a special gift to our fearless CaP leader, Kelly, who is not only one of the kindest, most supportive people we’ve ever met — but the most deserving of ABO shenanigans!
> 
> We love you, Chief Heaux!  
> 
> 
>   
> 
> 
> * * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The amazing cover art was made by [theriseofswolo](https://theriseofswolo.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! 😍

" _Fucking kids_."

For a moment, Ben considers just going back to his own cabin. It's almost two in the morning, after all, and he's still battling a migraine from herding his crew of hyperactive pre-teens through their first week of rope-tugging, rock-climbing, mud-slinging camp activities. Just the thought of dragging more young alphas back to their beds is enough to make his skull give a miserable, splitting throb.

How easy it would be to let the little dickwads (because it's surely someone from _his_ side of camp) have their fun and pretend he _didn't_ see the light blaring out of the pool house from up the hill.

But he knows he can't do that.

With a long-suffering sigh, Ben begins climbing up the grassy hill.

To his relief, the rows of cabins are blissfully dark and silent on either side of the path. No sounds disturb the night beyond the song of the crickets in the woods all around. No sign of any other disobedient campers — aside from whoever the hell is about to get reamed out at the pool up there.

For the dozenth time this week, he wonders why he's even _here._ He doesn't even like kids. Especially not hormonal preteens barely even days into their own designation.

As he trudges toward the pool house, a large wooden sign cheerfully informs him that he's crossing over the border of _Alpha Acres_ and entering _Friendship Frontier_ , where campers from both sides are permitted to mingle. He can hear a slight splashing coming from the pool there.

Scowling, Ben quickens his pace.

This will be the third time since he arrived here just over a week ago that he's had to kick a group of dumb Alpha boys out of the pool after hours. He's praying they're just swimming. He doesn't even want to _think_ about what he caught one of the older ones doing to an Omega's discarded towel last week.

He shudders all over in distaste. They're a bunch of horny animals. The whole lot of them.

He pushes through the gate to the pool area quietly, somewhat enjoying the thought of scaring the living shit out of the little gremlins. Sometimes it pays to be taller and larger than anyone he knows.

Keeping as quiet as he can manage, he creeps around the pool house that houses the locker and shower areas, moving around the brick building towards the dimly lit pool area.

There are a handful of lights along the walls of the pool. They make it easy to make out the shadowy shape of someone just under the surface of the water as the pool comes into view. He glances around in search of accomplices, but finds no one else.

This person has come here alone.

They haven't noticed him yet, with the way their head turns for breath as they make quick strokes through the water. He can only see their murky shape gliding just under the surface.

Ben prepares himself to threaten them within an inch of their life — to make sure they aren't tempted to leave their cabin after dark for the rest of the _summer_ — but his words become lodged in his throat when his late-night rule breaker breaks through the surface.

Because the delicate shape of the figure emerging in the dim light makes it all too obvious this person doesn't belong to his side of the camp. And as she rises from the pool, water cascading in rivulets down her body, Ben becomes quite certain she isn't even young enough to be a camper.

Something stirs in his gut as he watches her climb up the stairs. Distantly, he is aware he is witnessing something private. Even though he is on night duty — he is quite literally doing his job, god damnit — he is overcome with the powerful sensation that he has no right to be here. Watching this stranger as she stretches, dripping, all over the cement patio.

He should leave. That would be the courteous thing to do. He should turn around and let her have these few moments of stolen privacy — a precious commodity in a camp crawling with dozens of nosy prepubescent children.

Instead, he hears himself call out to her.

"You shouldn't be here."

She freezes, her back still to him. If Ben had any doubt in his mind about whether she was breaking the rules, it vanishes at the look on her face — wide-eyed and fearful, her body completely still.

_Like an animal trapped._

The thought comes out of nowhere, leaving him a little stunned. He wonders where it came from — he isn't in the habit of comparing people to prey — but then the breeze shifts, a new scent cuts through the chlorine stench of the pool, and Ben's mind goes completely blank.

An Omega. She's an Omega.

Even from a distance, he can see the way her expression morphs from shock into anger. She whirls around, hands on her hips, clearly unaware of the full-frontal display this provides him of her half-naked body.

"And _you_ shouldn't be spying on people while they swim," she replies coolly, with the sweetest little accent he has ever heard.

His mouth falls open. A flicker of embarrassment sparks inside of him, but it lingers for only a second before he remembers that he is actually allowed to be here. "I wasn't _spying,"_ he protests with great aggravation. "I thought you were—" He bites back his explanation, realizing he doesn't owe her one. "It doesn't matter. This is private property. You shouldn't be here."

He is moving slowly toward her. Definitely not leaving, the way he promised himself he would a few moments ago. He isn't entirely sure if it is even a conscious thing — his feet falling one in front of the other in a mechanical fashion until they close the distance between them.

Because it's his job to stay. That's what he tells himself. Not because he wants to get a better look at her. Definitely not.

He is close enough now to make out wide eyes, their color indiscernible, currently tucked under a furrowed brow that only emphasizes how aggravated she is with him. The shape of her mouth, however, does not escape his notice. Not even in the dark.

She _must_ be trespassing. He is certain he would have noticed her at the counselor orientation last weekend. He doesn't think he would forget a mouth like that. It's too full, too soft looking, begging for his teeth to test just how much.

The thought takes him by surprise, and he realizes he's standing only a few feet from her now — just staring at her mouth like some sort of creep.

But it's even harder not to do so when she begins to speak again, even if her words have a bite to them that is only slightly dulled by the lilting quality of her voice.

"I'm well aware of whose property this is. Even before you showed up tossing your weight around and acting like you owned it."

He's trying very hard not to let his gaze dip down to where the swell of her breasts just peeks out of her swim top. He keeps his attention pointedly fixed instead on her eyes that are still so angry looking.

It makes it a lot easier to ignore the fact that her prickly attitude makes his chest hot.

"It's my _job_ to be here. Just like it's my _job_ to make sure people don't wander around the grounds at all hours of the night where they don't belong."

"Oh?" She raises a brow at him, hands still on her hips. "Is it also your job to keep staring at my tits?"

Ben's not sure what catches him more off-guard — the fact that he's been caught, or the shape of her pretty mouth around such an obscenity. But even stronger than his embarrassment is that same unfamiliar stirring in the pit of his stomach, returning to swell with pleasure at her defiance.

Because she isn't moving to cover herself up. Here he is, fully dressed and crowding her personal space on an abandoned patio, and she is simply standing before him — her body so many miles of wet, freckled skin. Gazing up into his face. She tilts her head, and that scent, that lovely, toe-curling, heart-squeezing scent rolls over him again.

She doesn't smell like she wants him to leave. Ben has never been so sure of anything in his life.

"It could be," he says, very softly. "I would take good care of them, Omega. And the rest of you, too, if you let me."

Ben hardly knows what he's saying — only that his body is drawn to her, moving ever closer. Hypnotized by the curve of her plush bottom lip and the way it moves, ever so slightly, when her breath hitches.

"I've never met an Alpha who could take care of me better than I could take care of myself," she murmurs.

"Well then," Ben says, his voice very low. His gaze dips to the delicate line of her throat as it moves around a swallow. "It's nice to meet you."

Her voice is quieter when it leaves her now. Almost breathless, and he knows he isn't the only one that is being swept up by this.

Whatever _this_ is.

"You seem quite sure. I'm not so certain you could handle me."

His fingers itch with the need to reach out and touch her. She would be so soft under his hands. It would be so very _easy_ to tear off that flimsy scrap of neoprene that barely covers anything on her body _._

He doesn't even think she'd mind. He can sense it in the way she leans in slightly.

"There's a lot I can handle." His nostrils flare with the force of his inhalation as he tries to breathe in more of that intoxicating scent. "And you certainly seem like you need handling."

He doesn't miss the slight rise of her height as she presses up on her toes just a _fraction._ "Wouldn't you like that."

"I don't think I'm the only one."

"Is that so?"

He can feel the warmth of her breath now. It would be nothing to close the distance. To taste her.

She's too close. _Far_ too close. His thoughts are a tangled mess of where he might best spread her out. How she might feel if he buried himself inside her. What _sounds_ she might make.

Her eyes are nearly closed, and her chest rises and falls just as heavily as his, and he doesn't know what's happening but he _wants_ it. He wants it more than anything he's ever wanted in his entire _life._

He leans forward, just a bit, he doesn't need much, and it's happening. _This_ is happening. It's going to—

A sharp crash rings out into the night, the sound of the gate opening and slamming shut hitting him like a bucket of freezing water. Ben swears, whirling around, just in time to see four of his rowdiest alphas freeze at the pool's entrance.

"Ah, fuck," one of the boys mutter, "it's Moose."

"My camp name," Ben yells back, "is Supreme Leader! And lights out was _three hours ago_ , _Dameron!"_

"That's not stopping _you_ from swimming!" Dameron shouts right back at him from across the pool.

"I'm not swimming," Ben says, scowling, "I was just—"

He turns to point to the beautiful trespassing girl standing next to him — but she is gone.

Vanished without a trace.

"Get your asses back to your cabin," Ben growls, rounding on his campers. "If the lights in there aren't off in five minutes, none of you get to compete in the tug-of-war contest for the rest of the week."

If there's anything that a young Alpha enjoys more than games with muddy competition, it's games with knots. Even if they're of the rope variety. The group of boys scramble back down the hill before Ben has the chance to remind them not to call him Moose again.

And then he's alone once more.

Once he's certain they're gone, Ben whips around and begins to check every corner of the pool deck. Where the _hell_ did she go? She didn't sneak past the young Alphas standing near the gate — he certainly would have noticed _that_ — but there's no way she hopped the six-foot fence, either.

After his second lap searching the perimeter of the pool, he wonders if she might have been able to _climb_ the fence — but he's also beginning to suspect that he fabricated the entire encounter in a state of sleep-addled desperation. The camp is approaching the end of its first week, after all, and even though the designations aren't permitted to mingle very much, he's _sure_ he would have noticed this Omega. He would bet his life on it.

Even if she hadn't been an apparition, as increasingly likely as that seems, her sudden disappearance would mean that she had fled. Her first opportunity to run away from him, and she had seized it without thinking twice.

Chest stinging with unexpected hurt, he makes his way toward the gate. It must be approaching three in the morning by now, and he's got yet another long day of head-pounding teenage chaos ahead of him tomorrow. He'll go back to his cabin, toss around on the stiff mattress there for another few hours and hopefully forget all about this mess tomorrow.

Stewing in his disappointment, he almost misses the flash of white terrycloth, thrown haphazardly over a lounge chair.

Ben falters. His nostrils flare. He picks up the towel and holds it to his face, breathing deeply.

Closing his eyes, a smile slowly spreads across his face.

 _Yes._ She was here after all.

And the powerful reminder of her scent, soaked in the cloth of the pool towel, extinguishes his other fear.

Whatever it was that just happened between them, she wanted it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder if he’ll ever see her again? 🙃


	2. A Swingin' Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we don’t know what makes us happier. You all being excited for this story or you all just being generally excited for us working together. 😭 So many people stanning our love just... makes us happy. 😂

"If I hear _one_ more knot joke, I swear to all that's holy I'll—"

Poe gives him a grin, and Ben just _knows_ that he's going to throttle the little floppy-haired blowhard before the end of the month. "What's got you in a knot, Moose?"

Ben closes his eyes and counts to ten. He reminds himself that he _can't_ murder a fourteen year old boy. He has a hard time keeping his temper in check on the _best_ of days; he certainly isn't able to hold it back easily when he's only running on a few hours of restless sleep, plagued by thoughts of _her._

He's still very irritated when he is able to look at his troop again, but he feels a little less like committing murder.

"My camp name," he says slowly, "is Supreme Leader."

Finn pipes up, "But Holdo said—"

"I _know_ what Holdo said," Ben grumbles, and then a little quieter, "Moose is a stupid fucking name."

"Ooooh _,_ you said—"

"I _know_ what I said," Ben grinds out at a grinning Snap. "Just—" He takes a deep breath. "Let's get a move on. We're going to be late to this camp meeting."

Poe groans. "Do we _have_ to hang out with the Omegas _?"_

He says the word like it's something gross, and that actually surprises a laugh out of Ben. Kid has a lot to learn. He pulls a line straight from one of his mother's speeches for recitation. "It's important for Alphas and Omegas to learn how to interact with one another in a healthy environment."

Ben supposes a summer camp for budding Alphas and Omegas is a great idea, even if he doesn't understand why _he_ has to be a part of it. He understands the appeal, of course — proper Alpha and Omega relations, children coming to terms with their designations in a controlled setting... he read the damned pamphlets his mother had typed up.

The execution of Leia's little experiment, however, is turning out to be a lot messier than any of the pamphlets let on.

Ben sniffs at his shirt and winces. He really wanted to catch a shower before this meeting. For all of them to, really — teenage boys do _not_ smell better after sweating.

But it's harder than it should be to herd six pre-teen Alphas across a camp full of such fascinating distractions as giant puddles of mud, clouds shaped like "boobies," and a tree so climbable that it took ten minutes of Ben's most creative threats to lure Poe and Snap back down to earth.

He's not looking forward to showing up to one of Holdo's _meetings_ covered in sweat and dirt and God knows what else — but a glance at his watch informs him there just isn't any time.

Not that the little heathens he's babysitting seem to care about that.

At the sound of another scuffle behind him, Ben releases a weary sigh. "Gwen," he calls over his shoulder. "Stop kicking dirt at Poe."

"But he keeps putting grass in my hair!"

"Poe, stop putting grass in Gwen's hair."

"But she got dirt in my socks," Poe says, pouting. "I _hate_ dirty socks."

Gwen rolls her eyes. "Your socks are always dirty anyway."

"My socks were perfectly fine before you started kicking dirt in them!"

"You've been wearing the same pair for _three days."_

Ben grimaces. "New rule. Everyone has to put their socks in the laundry later. Yes, Dameron, that includes you. And no more kicking dirt at him, Gwen, or you're going to be the one washing them."

The boys make a collection of disgruntled sounds behind him as they begin to climb the hill, and it takes Ben a few moments to notice one of his troop hanging back.

"Gwen? Are you coming?"

The lithe blonde is only five inches shorter than he is at thirteen, and she looks every bit as happy to be at this camp as Ben does. She fixes a heated glare in his direction.

"Do I have to?"

He feels a little pang of sympathy. It must be tough for a female Alpha — they're so rare _,_ after all. "Hey, don't worry about them," he offers, only a little awkwardly. "All boys are dumb at this age." She gives an apathetic nod, not quite looking convinced. "Besides," he adds. "You could probably kick their asses if you wanted to."

He thinks he sees the corners of her lips curl, but she quickly bites it back as she gives him a half-hearted shrug. He jerks his chin in the other direction, and she shuffles behind him as they move to join the others.

By the time Ben finally guides his band of merry idiots into the recreation hall, he is distressed to find that it is already completely silent. Clearly, none of the other camp leaders had any trouble escorting their charges to the meeting on time. _Their_ children all sit cross-legged on the floor in obedient little rows, looking about as clean as one can expect some one hundred and fifty-odd children to be at an outdoor summer camp — which is to say, much cleaner than the Alphas from Ben's cabin.

Lucky for him, every eye in the room is riveted on the tall, purple-haired woman standing near the dais.

It's a little incredible to him, that he can only supervise four young teenagers with minimal competency while Amilyn Holdo can command the attention of dozens more with just a firm glance. But it also doesn't really surprise him. There's always been something about her that demands you stop, look and — perhaps most importantly — _listen_. She is using this remarkable superpower on the campers right now, going over their schedule for the week ahead and all the "integrated activities" everyone will get to enjoy.

Glancing at his own troublemakers, who are gaping openly at the Omega campers, Ben finds himself dreading just _how much_ they are going to enjoy it.

He attempts a stern glare before leading them to the Alpha side of the room, trying to attract the least amount of attention possible. He almost thinks they'll make it without incident when he suddenly feels Holdo's gaze on him — and, in turn, everyone else's.

"Moose!" she says, sounding delighted. "What perfect timing. You can be my partner to help me demonstrate."

 _Demonstrate?_ Frantically, Ben reviews the past thirty seconds in his head, trying to remember if he heard anything that would require a _demonstration_ — but Holdo is waving him over, and at least three of his boys behind him are giggling and repeating _Moose_ in hushed voices, and Ben simply can't think of an excuse in time to deny her.

Barely containing his displeasure, he trudges through the open area between the two groups towards the front.

Holdo's arms are open in invitation as he approaches, grinning with satisfaction. "Now, campers — during a dance, the Alpha will normally lead. I'm not used to giving up that right, but I suppose for a strapping fellow like Moose here I'll make an exception."

Ben bites back a groan as a collection of giggles trickle through the crowd on either side of him.

"Now the Alpha will place their right hand on the Omega's waist..." She gives Ben an expectant look.

He blinks back at her. "Your what?"

"My waist, Ben," she mutters impatiently. "Put your hand on my waist."

He does so slowly, feeling his spine stiffen with embarrassment. Holdo reaches for his other hand to take it in hers. Completely unfazed, she plasters her smile back into place as she turns her head to someone out of Ben's view. "Maz, if you'd please?"

Soft classical music begins to play, and Holdo urges Ben to move as she begins to count out a quiet, _one, two, three_ in time with the melody.

"We haven't done this since my wedding," Holdo murmurs fondly between her counting.

Ben shakes his head. "Don't remind me."

She frowns back at him, narrowing her eyes a little. "I think perhaps it would be better if you demonstrated with someone who is a little more proportionate for your height."

She steps away to scan the crowd, and Ben feels a little nauseous as he thinks about dancing with a stranger in front of an entire room of people. He hardly even knows _how_ to dance. He should have kept his damned mouth shut.

"Sunshine," Holdo calls out, and it takes him a second to realize she's using another one of those stupid camp names. She points toward the Omega side, and his stomach gives another lurch. "You'd be a perfect partner for Moose here, I think."

For a long moment, no one moves. The sonata on the speaker continues playing, oblivious to its lack of dancers. Ben's jaw clenches. He knows he doesn't exactly have a reputation for his friendliness, but he can only imagine the humiliation he will have to endure for the next two weeks if an Omega counselor rejects him in front of the entire camp.

When someone finally rises, all the air leaves his lungs in a rush of relief. Which has the unintended consequence of making his next inhale unusually deep — so that he is slammed face-first with the scent of the Omega who is currently pushing herself to her feet.

That scent. _Her_ scent.

 _His scent_ , growls some wild, possessive corner of his mind. _His, his, his_.

She is here.

Ben stares at her in disbelief as she straightens to her full height. She is wearing the uniform of the other counselors (his mouth goes a little dry as he remembers what she looks like, wet and naked beneath all that beige), and she tugs at the hem of her shirt now, an anxious movement, as she stares at him.

She looks just as shocked as he feels.

Holdo claps her hands then, and the poor Omega nearly jumps out of her shoes. "Let's go, Sunshine. The song is only three minutes long!"

Ben's heart stutters as he realizes that he will be allowed to touch her. For three entire minutes, he will be allowed to touch her, to move her body, to drink in that same scent that drove him to such distraction for his entire sleepless night.

The girl — Ben refuses to think of her as _Sunshine_ — begins to make her way toward him, stepping around the tiny Omegas sitting cross-legged in her path. Beneath her shock, Ben can recognize her hesitation. And beneath that... His nostrils flare.

He is suddenly very certain that he is not the only one thinking about last night.

Her scent fills his lungs, thick with a heat that hadn't been there before — as if she is also thinking about how close he'd been to pinning her to the concrete. About how much she may have even _wanted_ him to.

He doesn't hesitate as he did with Holdo. His hands find this Omega's waist as if they were made to fit there. Holdo is prattling on about timing and rhythm and appropriate distances — but Ben has already begun to move their bodies to the music. Probably incorrectly, and with none of Holdo's grace — but the Omega still sways in his hold, letting him guide her.

"You didn't tell me," he murmurs quietly, careful that someone won't overhear. "That you were a counselor."

He thinks her mouth twitches just a little. "Neither did you."

"I told you it was my job to keep disobedient boys and girls from causing trouble."

"Why, sir. Do I look like the sort who would cause trouble?"

She directs a sly look at him through her lashes as he spins their bodies in slow circles. Feeling bold, Ben gives her a particularly firm pull, so that his mouth is briefly right beside her ear.

"You look like you never stop," he murmurs. "But don't worry. I'd know exactly how to make you behave."

When he pulls away with the next step, she shivers a little in the circle of his arms. It is the worst kind of torture to keep himself from crushing her small body against him, right in front of this crowded room.

She glances at Holdo, who is still educating the children on how to have the least amount of fun possible while dancing, and then back up at Ben with mischievous eyes. "For someone who cares so much about the rules, it sounds an awful lot like you're flirting with another counselor."

"We have a pre-existing relationship. I didn't know you were counselor."

"I didn't know we had a relationship."

"Well, now you do."

"I think I have to say yes first."

He is torn between holding his breath and gulping down greedy lungfuls of her fragrance, blossoming in the air around them. "Then say it."

Seconds pass as he studies her face in the filtered daylight from the window. His gaze follows the freckles at the bridge of her nose up to her eyes, which are precisely the same color as sunlight on seawater — something he couldn't have possibly appreciated in the muddied lights of the pool last night.

"What's your name?" he says suddenly as he gives her another turn. "You never told me your name."

"You didn't ask."

"Tell me your name, Omega."

It's soft, but there's an edge to his tone he hardly recognizes, one that makes her pupils dilate and her breath catch. He forgets briefly that they're surrounded by so many people.

"Rey," she breathes. "My name is Rey."

"Rey." He lets the syllable linger on his tongue — enjoying the weight of it. It suits her.

It's only then that he realizes the music has stopped. That Holdo is calling his name — or rather, that stupid _camp_ name.

"Moose?"

He whips his head up to find Holdo giving him a curious look. With great difficulty, he forces himself to release the girl — _Rey, her name is Rey_ — from his possessive grasp. His hands drop back to his side.

"Thank you for demonstrating. Both of you." Holdo casts a grateful expression at Rey as well. "You can both break to your troops now. We are reviewing proper dance etiquette and behavior." Her eyes sparkle knowingly. "In case you didn't hear."

Rey turns to leave, and Ben has to resist the powerful urge to reach out and pull her back to him. He scrambles for any reason that he can think of to keep her close. Even if just for a few more seconds.

"Rey. Wait."

She halts immediately and looks back at him. Ben wonders if she feels compelled to listen to him.

He wonders if she likes it.

"I..." His throat constricts, hardly even sure what he's saying. "You didn't ask for my name."

Rey grins at him, and it's blinding, it's _sunlight_ — just like her, and she's —

"But I know your name." Her smile turns coy, and it fills him with the urge to do all sorts of things he's never wanted to do before. Things he's never even considered. "Moose, right?"

He's left just a little dumbstruck — still so confused as to what this woman is doing to him. Making him act on urges he's never felt. Bringing out some side of him he hadn't even known _existed_.

He walks back to his group in a daze, resisting the urge to look back. To find her with his eyes. His troop chatters incessantly amongst themselves as he approaches, and he's too distracted to even be annoyed at their cheerful greeting of _Moose._

"I think he likes you," Snap teases, even as Poe shoves him.

"Shut up. I didn't even know there was any such thing as a boy Omega."

Ben risks one more glance over his shoulder at her, eyes trailing down a long expanse of tanned legs.

"I did," Finn pipes up. "My neighbor is one."

Poe doesn't seem to be listening. "And what kind of stupid name is Armitage?"

Ben's trying his best to pay attention, but his mind is stuck on the slim column of her throat as she turns her head to speak to one of the Omegas in her troop.

"I mean, there are girl Alphas," Snap reasons, as Gwen glowers behind them. "So it makes sense I guess."

Poe snorts. "And did you see those _freckles?"_

"No one else was paying attention to his freckles, Dameron," Gwen says flatly. "You were the only one."

Poe makes some frustrated sound. "I was not!"

Ben realizes her scent still lingers on his clothes, on all the places she had touched him. He wonders if she tastes as good as she smells.

Finn begins to laugh. "Poe, are you blushing?"

" _Am not._ You'd better shut up, Gwen."

"Are you going to make me?"

"I just might."

There's a shout. Ben is finally pulled out of his stupor when he realizes that they've started shoving at each other. He is brought to full attention just as Gwen is rearing back to put Poe on the ground.

"Hey. _Hey_." Ben grabs them both by the backs of their shirts, pulling them apart. "Cut it out. _Both of you."_

Poe still looks a little like he wants to jump Gwen, and Gwen doesn't look any better off.

"Fine." Gwen concedes first, but Poe still looks questionable.

"Don't forget about tug-of-war," Ben warns him.

Poe's face screws up as he finally looks away. "Fine. But I _wasn't blushing._ "

Ben finally lets them go, nerves frayed by both the surrounding influx of hormones and the torrent of his own desires still raging inside him.

Just a few passing moments with the Omega campers has his troop more riled up than he's seen them all week. Ben thinks he knows the feeling. Up until today, he believed it was a wise decision to keep the Omegas on the other side of camp all week.

After the past twenty-four hours, however...

He spares another furtive glance at the Omega side, catching sight of the one Omega that's responsible for all of the dark urges awakening inside him.

After the past twenty-four hours, he's doubly grateful for that rule.

Because if he had to spend any more time with this girl, he would end up acting in ways that would not be classified as model behavior for their young and impressionable campers.

He catches sight of her one last time before he leads his alphas out the rec hall.

No. The things he wants to do to her would not be model behavior at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I’m sure they won’t be forced together or anything. Nope.


	3. All That We Could Share

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the towel. You remember that towel? Pepperidge Farm remembers, and so the fuck do we.

It's not something he planned. 

In fact, it's something he's a little ashamed of.

But when he stood there by the pool that night, her scent quite literally in his hands as it saturated the thick terry cloth of her discarded towel — it had been easy, _too easy,_ to take it with him. To hide it in the sleeping bag draped over the flimsy mattress in his cabin. 

At the time, he justified his actions with the knowledge that he might never see her again. He told himself that it couldn't hurt to hold onto it, just for a little while, so that he could remember her.

But now — now that he knows exactly who she is and _where_ she is (and everything in him begs that he march to her side of the camp and _do_ something about that), there's absolutely no reason for him to keep it. 

He should drop it in a laundry bag. He should throw it away — but here he sits in his empty cabin, staring down at the dried fabric, with _terrible_ ideas floating through his head. 

It's only that he can't seem to forget the way she felt under his hands. Can't seem to shut out the lilting quality of her voice, still lingering in his ears. 

_No one would know,_ he reasons. It will be at least an hour before the boys get back from the pool. 

No one will interrupt him in his own cabin.

_Surely just a little bit can't hurt._

So he brings the cloth to his nostrils, and he takes a deep breath, and it's so _good —_ he can't help but take another. 

_Fuck._

He's getting hard. Just from this. He knows he should be ashamed — this is just as bad as the unspeakable behavior he's witnessed from the little monsters he's been supervising all week. _Worse_ , even — because he should know better. He absolutely should. 

It doesn't stop him from taking another inhale. 

His knees are feeling a little unsteady, so he drops onto the end of his bed. _Just for a minute._ Pressing the material more firmly to his nose, Ben takes another shuddering lungful of her. Sweet. Citrusy. Like a plump, dripping fruit.

He wants to smear the sticky taste of her all over his tongue. Until she is squirming and pleading and dripping and _sweet_ , god, she would be _so_ _sweet_ in his mouth.

His hand is kneading at the growing bulge in his jeans. He's not sure when this started, but he's as helpless to stop it as he is to put the towel down. He is a passenger in his own body, trapped in the mouth-watering scent of this Omega and all the things he wants to do to her.

Another ragged breath, and the ripeness of her scent flood his lungs again, a kaleidoscope of hunger that fills every bone in his body. 

Ben unzips his fly.

The towel is coarse. Not the way she would feel at all, if he were to press his mouth to any part of her. He finds he is unexpectedly envious of the ways this fabric has known her naked body, sliding over her dripping, moonlit curves. 

Breathing into it deeply, Ben imagines he is touching her instead.

Her hips filled his palms so nicely as he danced with her. The perfect size and shape for him to pin her firmly to his bed and follow the scent of her, with open-mouthed kisses, to the throbbing space between her legs. His tongue drifts past his lips, pressing to the thick cloth, and she's there — right _there_. Ben groans, a muffled, guttural sound in the fabric. 

This is what she would taste like. 

His fingers tease at his now-straining cock, squeezing and rubbing his palm up and down the length. He can almost make himself believe that her thighs are around his head and his tongue drinks _her_ in rather than her faded scent from a stolen towel.

He wonders what noises she might make, as he fists the head of his cock. If she will cry out when he licks her between her legs or if the sound would be softer, _sweeter,_ just like her. He imagines her fingers in his hair and his fingers in her _cunt_ and it's enough — just enough to make him needy. 

He needs _more._

His breathing is harsh now in the little cabin. He gives himself a slow stroke — but it's not quite tight enough. Not quite as _warm_ as he knows she would be. His chest heaves with effort, and a bead of sweat trickles over the side of his face to trail down his neck. 

Without thinking, he lets the towel drift there — holding his breath as he presses the part most saturated with _her_ into the hot flesh of his gland. 

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck —_

His body jerks as if hit with a jolt of electricity. Her scent is so much more powerful this way, the pulsing gland on his neck itching and throbbing for the pleasure it promises. His head lolls, mouth open and panting, as he jerks himself to the smell of her — to the primal knowledge that this Omega is wanting, she is ready, she is fucking _designed_ for him to take and fuck and fill and fill and _fill_ her —

He comes with a raw shout, a blinding rush of pleasure that briefly makes the world go white behind his eyelids. His knot follows almost simultaneously. Ben grunts as it swells, demanding the heat and slick of the cunt it was promised. Seeking to bind its warmth to him forever.

It doesn't last.

When he opens his eyes again, many long moments later, he looks down and nearly jumps off the bed.

"Shit — no — no, no, _no_ —"

He must have wrapped the thing around his dick at some point, because now it is fisted around him, wet with cum. Swearing loudly, he manages to peel it away, even while his cock still twitches and leaks like a fucking animal.

Grimacing, Ben holds up the towel to take in the damage. 

_Ruined. Utterly ruined._

His only token of her affection — his sole proof of what happened that night and the scent of her body's response — and he has completely destroyed it. There isn't a shred of her left. Just the evidence of his own humiliating lack of self-control.

_(In some dark, depraved corner of his mind, he wonders if this is what he will do to her when they're finished. If he will fill her until she's dripping — until there's no part of her left that hasn't been claimed by him —)_

The sound of children laughing as they run past the cabin yanks him brutally back to reality. 

He has spent the past fifteen minutes hiding in his cabin, jerking off into the towel of an Omega who thinks his name is _Moose._

Scowling, Ben crumples the towel and throws it across the room. It makes a repulsive squelching noise as it hits the wall.

As it slides to the floor, dirty and sullied utterly _ruined_ — he still finds himself wishing he could do the exact same thing to her. 

* * *

"Poe, if you throw that food, I will shove it back down your throat."

Poe looks up at Ben with a guilty expression. The kid clearly believed he was being stealthy. As soon as he thinks Ben isn't looking anymore, however, he makes another face at Gwen across the table.

Ben guesses they're still doing the preteen rendition of the _whose dick is bigger_ song and dance. 

He has a feeling who would win that particular competition. And it wouldn't be Dameron.

Dinner is tenser than it should be. At least it is for Ben. The cafeteria is one of the few areas where both sides of the camp convene, which had been perfectly fine with him before the other night. Before _her._

But now he can't keep his eyes on his own table. 

They wander across the wide room in search of her. She's several tables away, laughing with a little dark-haired Omega about something or other — but even from here, Ben swears he can hear the tinkling notes of her laughter. 

He looks back down into his plate — trying not to think about the fact that, only a few hours ago, he touched himself to her scent. That he fucked a _towel_ while _desperately_ wishing it had been her. 

He sneaks another glance across the room. Her lips are wrapped around a spoon as she withdraws it slowly, and in his mind it's his _cock_ her mouth clings to and _fuck_ —

He doesn't know how he will survive this camp. 

From the front of the room, Holdo's voice pulls him from the gutter where his mind has taken up residence. He looks up to find her gesturing at a large whiteboard that has several names grouped together by twos. 

He furrows his brow as he tries to pay attention to what she's saying. 

"— now the purpose of Unity week is to learn how to work _together_ with our opposite destinations. In your adult life, you will be passengers together, co-workers together, and perhaps one day even _mates —"_ A series of snickers and collective _ews_ pass through the room. "— and it is important that we learn how to share space and help each other without allowing the baser instincts of our designation to cloud our judgement. The Alpha does not always need to lead; the Omega does not always need to follow. It's important to work _together."_

Unity week. What is _unity_ week? Ben frantically tries to remember any mention of this that would clear up his confusion, but he finds none. _Shit._

"Every Omega troop will be paired with a corresponding Alpha troop, and you will spend the next week sharing a number of activities designed to teach both groups about teamwork and acceptance."

The kids in his troop start to grumble under their breath. Ben can't say he feels much more excited than they do. It's bad enough trying to keep a group of hormonal alphas under control on their own. Throw a group of equally hormonal Omegas into the mix, and Ben can only imagine the amount of knot jokes, juvenile posturing and uncomfortably sexual "group activities" he will be forced to endure over the course of the next week.

At the front of the room, Holdo has begun reading from a list of counselors, pairing them off.

"Jar Jar and Buttercup... Falcon and Princess..."

There is an angry noise to his right, and he turns to find that Gwen has smeared a handful of mashed potatoes in Poe's hair. Ben yanks both their dishes away from them before Poe can reciprocate.

"... Moose and Sunshine..."

His head snaps up.

A few tables away, he sees Rey look up at the exact same time.

Even if he didn't see her, he would be aware of her reaction by the way her scent spikes. He knows that scent very intimately by now. Especially since he spent a considerable part of his morning trying to salvage what was left of it from the ruined towel.

Ben finds he is suddenly much more excited about Unity Week than he was a few minutes ago.

"Your favorite gingersnap is going to be with our group," Gwen is saying as she smirks at Poe.

Poe scowls openly at the other table. "We need a new group."

"No new groups," Ben cuts in. He is still staring at Rey, who has started to rub at the gland on her neck in a manner that is extremely distracting. "We've got to all learn how to work together. By the end of this week, we'll all be very, _very_ close with our new Omega friends." 

Snap makes kissy noises in Poe's direction. " _Super close."_

Poe shoves him, nearly knocking the large boy from his seat, and Ben is finally forced to rein in his little pack of hyenas. "What did I just say?"

"He started it," Poe mumbles.

Ben does his best to look authoritative. "Well, I'm _finishing_ it."

"Yes, Moose," the boys mutter in unison.

He rolls his eyes at the nickname, realizing by now that he's stuck with it. There seems to be as much of a chance of the sky opening up to snow as there is to getting these heathens to call him by a name that doesn't make him want to punch something. Never mind something that's actually kind of cool, like Supreme Leader.

His gaze drifts back across the room, but she isn't looking at him now. Her attention is directed at the little group of Omegas in front of her — chatting animatedly with them as they beam back at her. 

If it weren't for the brush of her fingers across her throat, rubbing at what he knows must be her heated little gland — he might not even realize just how excited _she_ is for Unity Week, too.

He told his boys that they would be close to their new Omega friends by the end of the week — but there's only one he's really interested in being close to. 

And he plans to get very close before the week is over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mm, can’t spell unity without _nut._


	4. A Crazy Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey wants to play an ice breaker but Ben just wants to _break her_ 🤤

A fine mist has settled over camp when Ben drags the children out of their cabin the next morning. For the first time, they’re one of the only troops dressed and ready for the day—a fact that Poe Dameron won’t let any of them forget for longer than thirty seconds.

“If we’re going to spend the whole day with a bunch of smelly Omegas,” he’s currently grumbling under his breath, “we should make it as short as possible.”

Gwen makes a mock-sympathetic noise as they march up the hill. “What’s the matter, Dameron? Got plans with someone afterward?”

“My fist is about to have plans with your face if you mention that little ginger turd again.”

 _”But his freckles!”_ Snap says in a high voice, swooning. “Did you see how many _freckles_ he has? Hey, Poe—where else do you think he has freckles?”

“No more talking about anyone’s freckles,” Ben snaps, glaring over his shoulder at them. “That’s not how you make friends.”

Poe scowls at him. “I don’t need any more friends. Especially friends that looks like a spotted chili pepper.”

“Who are you calling a chili pepper?”

To Ben’s dismay, he sees that they’ve already arrived at the Great Lawn—and despite his best efforts, they’re not the first ones there.

A troop of fresh-faced Omegas, looking much better off for the early hour than his own bedraggled group of campers, stands waiting near the edge of the lawn. Several of them are glaring. They look much fiercer than a bunch of pre-teen Omegas have any right to.

And then Ben sees their leader, and he understands why.

His heart immediately starts to pound twice as fast as it had been while climbing the steep hill.

Rey’s arms are crossed tight over her chest, but it’s the slim column of her throat that he can’t look away from. In the pale morning light, he can see that she has her very own smattering of freckles across her skin. All the way up to her gland.

He is struck with the powerful urge to run his tongue across each and every one of them.

“Finally decided to join us,” Rey says, a smirk twitching at her lips.

Ben wonders if he will ever stop feeling so dumbstruck around her, or if he’s forever doomed to get trapped in this temporary buffering period whenever they meet, struggling to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“Or maybe you were just eager to get here,” he says when he finally finds his voice. He raises an eyebrow. “Someone you were in a rush to see?”

A light blush rises across her cheekbones. “Just these strapping young Alphas you brought.” She turns to the children behind him. “How is everyone this morning?”

A collective grumbling passes over his troop, and Rey laughs.

“Okay, none of that. We’re going to make some great new friends today. And what better way to do that than with an icebreaker?”

Unsurprisingly, Poe is the first one to speak. “We have to break ice?”

“No, stupid,” the little ginger-haired boy called Armie pipes up. “It’s an exercise.”

Poe sneers at him. “And what’s _your_ camp name? Little Mr. Know-It-All?”

Armie’s face pinches in distaste. Poe looks like he’s about to continue, but when Ben shoots him a threatening look, the curly-headed terror turns away with a long-suffering sigh.

The expression of gratitude on Rey’s face makes Ben’s stomach flutter.

“If we’ve gotten _that_ out of our systems,” she continues, with a stern glance at the two boys, “an icebreaker is just a way to get to know each other a little better.”

More grumbling—but this time, her Omegas are joining in.

“Come on, now. It’ll be fun. Who here thinks they’re the best at lying?”

Poe’s hand immediately shoots up, at the same time that a small girl standing behind Rey says, “But we’re not supposed to lie, Miss Sunshine.”

“The rules are a little different in this game, Kaydel.” Rey smiles down at the frowning Omega, who does not look convinced. “Everyone has to share two facts about themselves and one big lie. I’ll start.” She casts another glance around the circle. “I grew up in a desert. I’m secretly a princess. And I know how to build a robot all by myself.”

“A robot?” Behind her, a little girl with dark eyes bounces on her heels. “Can you show us how to build robots too?”

“Nice try, Rose. If I answered that question, it would spoil the game.” Rey smiles with satisfaction as an interested murmur runs through the circle of children. “Now I think it’s Moose’s turn.”

Feeling the weight of eight little pairs of eyes on him, Ben clears his throat. “I’m an intergalactic warlord.” A smattering of giggles. “I take calligraphy classes.” His eyes flick to Rey. “And my name is Ben.”

Staring back at him, Rey bites her lip.

“Your name isn’t Ben,” Poe blurts out. “It’s Moose!”

“I guess you’ll never know.” Ben smirks at the shorter boy. “Now why don’t you give it a go, Dameron?”

In retrospect, he should have known this wasn’t a good idea. He realizes this as soon as Poe narrows his eyes at his red-headed target across the circle, folds his arms across his puffed-up chest, and begins to speak.

“I’ve been in a plane eight whole times,” he begins, sounding proud. “I can read minds. And I _hate_ Omegas.”

He finishes this statement with a nasty glare at Armitage, who scowls right back at him before he starts talking in a rush.

“I’ve been in a plane _eleven_ times—“

“Armie,” Rose says angrily, “It’s not your turn!”

“—I can read minds better than anyone here,” the smaller boy goes on, not taking his eyes off Poe, “and I _hate_ Alphas.”

_Jesus fucking christ._

“New rule,” Ben says loudly. “No more lies about hating Alphas or Omegas.”

Armitage turns up his pointy nose. “That one wasn’t my lie.”

 _“Armie!”_ Rose rounds on him. “You’re not supposed to tell! Now there’s no way we’re going to win.”

Poe snorts. “You were going to lose the whole time anyway.”

“This isn’t a game about winning or losing,” Rey cuts in, silencing them. She strides into the middle of the circle, giving each of its members a firm glare. “This is about learning how to trust each other.” Her gaze reaches him, and Ben doesn’t miss the way her eyes stutter over his face. The way they soften. “Making new friends.”

And then she turns away and gives a few claps to get their attention. “Now let’s give it another go. We’re not going to stop until we get this right.”

As Poe begins a begrudging list of uninteresting facts about himself, Ben catches Rey’s eye across the circle.

The smile she sends back to him will keep his heart full for the rest of the day.

* * *

“Poe, I swear to you, if you try to trip Armitage _one more time—”_

Poe quickly diverts his attention to a bit of foliage against a tree, suddenly _very_ interested in his nature guide.

Ben sighs, just as Rey lets out a little chuckle beside him. “They’re a handful.”

Her unexpected proximity nearly makes him jump. They’ve been hiking through the woods for fifteen minutes now, but they’ve both been so busy keeping their kids from throttling one another that Ben was starting to fear the third day of Unity Week would pass without a chance to speak with her.

He glances up to find her walking beside him, smelling of salt and soil and Omega.

She meets his eyes long enough for to Ben realize he is staring. The tips of his ears start to burn as he forces himself to look away.

“Monsters,” he mutters. “They’re _monsters.”_

“You were a fresh Alpha too, once,” she reminds him.

He tries to picture it—a gangly Alpha that was taller than everyone in his class and fuck, the _hormones_. He grimaces as he brushes away the memories, then sneaks another glance where Rey walks beside him.

It’s easy to linger at the back of their combined troops like this—easy to use the guise of keeping an eye on them to steal these few moments of _almost_ privacy with her. He’s not much of a hiker, per se, but he’s perfectly content to drag out his little nature scavenger hunt for as long as he’s able.

“So how did you end up a counselor?”

She wipes away a bit of sweat at her neck, and he tries not to visibly tense as the movement wafts a fresh blast of her scent just under his nostrils. “I signed up after I got the Organa newsletter.”

He barely succeeds. “You follow that?”

“I follow _everything_ Leia Organa does,” she gushes. “She’s brilliant.”

He actually does _try_ not to visibly frown, but he’s unable to prevent the little furrow in his brow or the tiny grunt that sounds in his throat.

Rey doesn’t miss any of these things. “You don’t like her?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” He hopes to leave it there, but Rey is looking at him with a curious expression, clearly expecting some sort of clarification. He sighs through his nostrils. “She’s my mother.”

Her mouth parts a little in surprise. She searches his face, as though looking for some sign that they _are_ in fact related—but then she just chuckles a little and shakes her head. “Ah, so that’s why you’ve got that whole _everything the light touches is our kingdom_ aura.”

He rolls his eyes. “I do not.”

“You do,” she laughs. “You act like you own everything at the camp.”

He doesn’t hide the way his eyes pass down her tiny frame, his voice lowering a fraction. “I don’t own everything.” He doesn’t miss the way she swallows thickly, or even the tiny shiver that passes over her. His voice is impossibly low now. “But I will.”

There’s a spike in her scent that has nothing to do with her sweat. He breathes it in deep, like an addict in search of a fix. The smell of her fills his lungs, and he releases a content hum. She’s not walking anymore, both of them standing still as she looks up at him with wide eyes, and he almost forgets that there’s anyone in these woods but the two of them.

“Rey,” he says slowly, “I—”

A scuffle ahead breaks through his fevered thoughts. “Get _off_ of me!”

“Get off of _him!”_

“Guys, we aren’t supposed to be—”

A quick glance confirms that Phasma has Poe in the dirt—tugging him by his unruly curls as Armitage pulls at her arm in an attempt to get her off the smaller Alpha.

With a frustrated growl, Ben stalks ahead to the spot in the dirt where there this flurry of testosterone is occurring. He tugs at the back of Gwen’s shirt, easily lifting her off of Poe as he pushes Armitage aside. Poe immediately tries to scramble to his feet, teeth bared as he lunges for Gwen.

“ _Enough,”_ Ben shouts. “ _Both of you.”_ He holds them both by their collars, forcing them six feet apart. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense. You’re supposed to be learning how to work together _—_ not how to tear each other apart.” Wriggling in his grip, they’re still glaring at one another. Ben is suddenly struck with an idea. “In fact…” He glances up at Snap. “Is there any rope in that backpack?”

Snap pulls off the backpack he brought along to rummage inside it. He pulls out a paracord bracelet.“I have this?”

“Perfect.”

Ben extends his hand, unraveling it deftly and pulling a pocket knife from his shorts to cut it into three equal pieces. He ignores the vehement protests from the two Alphas, binding their hands together so that they’re forced to remain side by side. Once they’re bound, they immediately begin to try and put distance between them—but to no avail.

Ben turns to the little red-haired Omega. “You too. Come here.”

Armitage’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t do anything!”

“You were right there in the fight.”

“No! I wasn’t fighting! I was just—” His eyes dart to Poe, and then a slight blush spreads across his freckled cheeks. “Fine.”

He walks over begrudgingly, offering his wrist as Ben ties it to Poe’s.

“There,” Ben says triumphantly. “Now, you’re going to work _together_ to collect your items. And if you don’t _—_ then you’re going to skip every activity tomorrow and wait in your bunks while everyone else has fun.”

Poe makes a sound of objection. “But you can’t—”

“Oh, yes,” Ben assures him. “I _can_. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” they grumble in unison, still breathing hard but not looking at each other.

He releases his hold on them. Poe casts an embarrassed look at his fellow ginger-haired captive, mouth in a tight line as he mutters a quiet, “Thank you.”

Armitage nods, still blushing. “You’re welcome.”

Gwen just rolls her eyes.

Ben decides it’s the best he can hope for.

He lets them return to the others, hanging back as Rey falls into step beside him. She’s quiet for a few moments, watching their little hellions resume their categorizing and cataloguing in their nature guides.

“You handled that okay,” she says finally.

Ben isn’t so sure. “Did I?”

She nods. “Things like that are why it’s important that this camp succeeds. There’s so much _distance_ between our designations. So much we don’t know _._ I want my Omegas to learn they can do anything an Alpha can.”

Ben must make some contradictory sound, because Rey gives him narrowed eyes. “You don’t agree?”

“Well, no.” Her brow knits into an almost angry expression, and he quickly corrects, “I mean _yeah—_ to a degree.”

“A degree.”

He nods. “Yes. I mean. An Omega can’t do _everything_ an Alpha can. Just as much as an Alpha can’t do everything an Omega can do.”

“That’s exactly the mentality that drives a wedge between us. Just because you’re bigger and stronger by design doesn’t make you better _.”_

“Now, hey, I never said—”

“Because I’ll have you know that I have taken care of myself for years on my own without a single Alpha to _hold my hand.”_

“Listen,” he tries to cut in, even though she is decidedly _not_ listening. “I never meant—”

She growls in frustration, having thoroughly worked herself up. “Even here! That stupid _Alpha_ event tonight. The Omega counselors could participate in capture-the-flag just as easily as the Alpha ones.”

“I never said that you couldn’t.”

“And yet even in this place of _equality_ there are limitations,” she snorts. “Even here the Omega is made to be _weak._ I could run a circle around you or any other Alpha any day of the—”

He grabs for her wrist, and this immediately makes her fall silent, her words dying on her tongue. She stares down at his hand with wide eyes. He hadn't exactly _meant_ to touch her—it’s only that her scent is so _thick_ now. Blooming with her irritation and clouding around him until he can hardly think _._

His nostrils flare as he struggles to both hold his breath and _desperately_ breathe her in. “I don’t think you’re weak.” Her pupils dilate a fraction, hardly even discernible, but he doesn’t miss it. “But there _are_ differences. Whether you like it or not”—his finger and thumb trail up her forearm lightly, lingering in the bend of her elbow as his thumb traces back and forth—“you’re softer than I am. More easily… broken.”

Her breath has picked up a bit. It’s harsher now—her nostrils flaring much like his own, and he wonders if she’s trying to gulp down his scent in the same way he is hers. 

He watches the delicate line of her throat move with her swallow, and her voice is much softer when she speaks again. “And who would break me, Ben?” She doesn’t tear her eyes away from his. “You?”

The kids are only a few yards away, and it’s not the time for this—but she’s so close. She’s _right there_.

“That depends,” he murmurs, his voice tight. “Would you like me to?”

Her scent is so thick he can nearly taste it on his tongue, and he knows this is what it would be like. If he were to press his mouth to her skin. Sweet, heavy, _perfect—_ just like her.

He sees the precise moment she collects herself. It seems she is much stronger than he is, to resist the pull of whatever this _thing_ is between them. Taking a step back, she gently pulls her arm from his hold and clears her throat.

“I might,” she teases, but her words are still tense, betraying just how affected she is. ”Or I might want to break you instead.“

She brushes past him, quickening her pace as she moves to join the kids ahead on the trail. Escaping him, he thinks. Always _just_ out of his reach.

He thinks he might let her. Break him, that is.

He thinks he might let her do whatever she wants to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The incredibly talented theriseofswolo on tumblr gifted us with some incredible cover art that we added to the beginning of the story—see it [here](https://theriseofswolo.tumblr.com/post/186988010601/i-guess-drawing-covers-for-fics-i-like-is-what-i) and scream with us. 😍


	5. Make A Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! So sorry about the long delay. We both had some real-life stuff going on that made it hard with a collaboration, but hopefully we can swing on to the end of this thing now! 💕

Ben weaves easily between the trees, shapeless and silent beneath the thick cloak of night. 

He has long ago shaken the other Alpha counselors on his trail. It is just him now — his breath, his lungs, his scent. Leaves and twigs crunch beneath his pounding feet. He can hear every movement, every tiny, helpless creature scuttling in the underbrush. Fleeing from the scent of the approaching predator.

Luckily for them, tonight they are not his prey.

It is too simple a thing, to slip into the ancient skin of his ancestors and allow instinct to take hold. It’s made simpler still with the children in bed and no Omegas to cloud his thinking. He is not quite himself this way — but not quite an animal, either. He has more power than either man or monster, his blood pounding with the heart of a beast, his senses blending to calculate the best way forward to claim his prize. Ben Solo is but a shadow here. He is something darker, something deeper, something eternal that lives in the oldest part of his soul.

His mother would not approve. But Ben is not thinking of his mother right now. 

The sky is black and moonless tonight. All he has to guide him are his senses, but they lead him through the forest better than any pair of human eyes could. They are bringing him, now, up a sloping hill. Toward the scent of raw meat that has been smeared on the flag, waiting at its crest.

Ben licks his lips.

He is almost there.

When he reaches the top of the hill, the trees give way to a clearing. To the shape of a flag, fluttering in the slight breeze. Ben pauses to savor his triumph. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply through his nostrils, allowing the remnants of his adrenaline to pump through his veins. 

He opens his eyes again.

The flag is gone.

Ben’s heart kicks back into high gear, and he whirls around, plying the night for any sign of movement. But he hadn’t seen — he hadn’t _heard_ —snarling, Ben gathers his senses, forces himself to listen to the woods around him, and—and— _there._

A pair of feet. Pounding down the other side of the hill.

He launches into a sprint.

Branches whip past his face as he runs, in pursuit of the fool who would claim his reward. He can almost feel the erratic heartbeat of his quarry, fluttering and skipping in time with his own. The slight hint of fear that drifts back on the air.

His mouth curls with satisfaction. _Let them be afraid._ He inhales again, hoping to catch a better scent of his prey —

And nearly trips over his feet when he is slammed in the face with the scent of— 

_Fuck._ No. It can’t be. 

_It is,_ whispers that dark, ancient voice. _You know it is._

Ben’s heart is roaring in his ears as he chases her. It’s harder to think like this. Now that he’s caught her scent on the air, it’s impossible to distinguish anything else from the pounding in his veins, drawing her closer, nearer, _faster_ —

She is, he thinks, a greater treasure than all the flags in the world.

There is the sound of stumbling up ahead, a hissed curse — and then Ben is upon her. He crowds her back against a tree, and there is no where left for her to go.

Rey is breathing heavily from their chase, staring up at him. Her face is pink with exertion. Inches away from the heat of her body, Ben stands perfectly still, fighting a thousand ancient instincts that demand things she has yet to offer him.

And then she lifts up a little piece of fabric, smirking.

"I have your flag."

"Fuck the flag." Ben tears it from her hand and throws it to the ground. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

She narrows her eyes at him, amusement fading. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm playing the game."

"You shouldn't be here," he hisses. "You're going to get hurt, little Omega."

She looks up at him indignantly. "You can't tell me what to –"

His hand slams against the bark of the tree as a sound tears from his throat he hadn't known he was capable of making. "Did you stop to think what might have happened if someone else had found you?"

He's thinking about it. He can't _stop_ thinking about it.

"Nothing would have –"

"There are a dozen Alphas in these woods tonight, Rey," he grinds out. "Every one of them is keyed up to a level of testosterone that you wouldn't believe. This many Alphas, all together, in one place, _competing_ like this –" He grinds his teeth as he thinks of any one of them finding her. _Touching_ her. "They aren't thinking clearly."

"I told you. I can take care of myself."

He stares down at her through the darkness, heart pounding and blood boiling. With every erratic rise and fall of her chest, there is a brush of her scent at his nostrils that feels much like her hair might, if he were to bury his face there. If he were to grip it between his fingers as he rocked into her from behind, and she would take it. Take _all_ of it. She would —

“Why do you think this camp separates its Alphas and Omegas, Rey?”

This question seems to catch her off guard. She frowns. “They’re children. They don’t know any better.”

“But it’s like this in the real world, too, isn’t it?” He cocks his head. “Why do you think that is?”

She is having a hard time breathing, crowded against the tree. Ben should step back. Give her some space.

He doesn’t do either of these things.

“I’ll tell you why,“ he says, when it’s clear she isn’t going to answer. “To protect a sweet little Omega like you from getting snatched up by an Alpha like me. They would eat you alive out there.”

Her face contorts in something not quite anger, but so close it makes his skin prickle. “That’s —“ She takes a shuddering breath. “A barbaric way of looking at things.”

“It’s in our blood, Rey. Alphas are born hungry to lead. To conquer.” His eyes pass over her body, and _oh_ , how she squirms. “Omegas are born with a hunger too. But of a different kind.”

His fingers curl just under her chin – tilting it. His thumb brushes along her jaw as she leans into his touch unconsciously. Just a slight turn of her face, but he doesn't miss the way her eyes flutter.

"You think you can take whatever you want," she whispers. Not a question. Not really.

His hand drifts, fingers skirting along the lobe of her ear and lower – _just_ along the little raised edge of the gland below her ear. It would only take the _slightest_ movement to touch her there. To press into the soft raised flesh that he knows would pulse for him. Knows how hot it would be against his own skin.

"You know I can,“ he murmurs. “But I don’t have to.” His fingernail scratches at the edge, so _lightly_ , and she makes some small sound in the back of her throat as her mouth parts wider. “Look how hungry you are already.”

"I don't know what you mean,” she says, but her voice betrays just how right he is.

“You know _exactly_ what I mean." He takes another step towards her, closing the distance to a hair's breadth between them. “Wandering around these woods… smelling like you do—” he leans in almost unconsciously, breathing in the scent of her as it travels down deep to stir the more primal parts of him. “Tell me, Rey. Did you _want_ me to find you?"

He hears the little hitch of her breath, and even with nothing but the starlight spilling through the leaves above – he can see the widening of her eyes and the slight part of her mouth.

And her _scent._

Like breaking open a fruit with his bare hands. Tasting its flavor with his tongue and drinking it in. Feeling it drip down his chin as he pulls more and more from within.

"I think you did." He doesn't recognize his voice now. It's practically a _purr_ . "I think you came looking for _me."_

“And what if I did?”

There is no sound in the wood now but for their breathing — and for the patter of her heart, racing beneath his fingers as he digs them, just a little, into the sensitive flesh of her gland.

The whine she makes... Ben is sure the world isn't actually spinning, but it’s hard to tell with how quickly the blood in his head rushes to fill his cock.

But that might also be because of her blossoming scent, thick and tangy and wildly, impossibly aroused. He takes a shuddering lungful of it. Breathes it out again in a slow, hot stream of air that washes directly over her throat. He’s not sure what sort of madness is taking over him — but it seems to have a hold on her, too, because she simply stands there. Letting him.

“Then say it,” he breathes. “Tell me why you came here. Not to prove something — but for _me.”_

There is a long moment where he thinks that she will fight it. That she will keep doing the exact thing she’s done since the moment they met. That she will fight _him._

But he’s learning she’s a surprise, because:

“I did,” she breathes. Her throat moves delicately around a swallow, and Ben longs to trace the curve of it with his tongue. “I came here for you.”

Seconds tick by as something builds deep inside him. Something like a string that’s wound too tight. Coiled around and around and _around_ —

Until it all breaks.

Ben shoves her against the hard bark of the tree, hips pressed against her stomach. And she lets him, this sweet, perfect Omega — she looks up at him with an expression that says she’ll let him do whatever he wants.

So he does exactly what he’s wanted since he found her by that pool. Burying his face beneath her hair, he lowers his mouth to the hot little gland that nearly sears his tongue with heat as he _licks._

She convulses, gasping, but Ben holds her still. He chuckles, deep and low against her throat, and then licks her again. And again. And _again —_ until her fingers curl into his hair, and she’s pleading for more, and Ben —

Ben wants to give her everything. 

"You should be in bed, with all the other good little Omegas," he says. “Maybe I should put you there.” 

“We don’t need a bed for the things you’re talking about.”

A low growl rips from his throat. “That’s exactly your problem, Rey. Good Omegas don’t say things like that.”

“Or maybe you just aren’t listening.” Rey turns her face, a breath away from his mouth. “I’m not a good Omega.” 

Ben is learning he is not a very good Alpha, either. He is completely out of control. Captive to all the things her body is asking him to do to her. He shifts his hips hard against her, seeking relief for his straining cock through the fabric of their collective clothes, and she lets out that little whine again, right next to his ear. Ben is sure he could come from just the sound of it. The sound of _her._

Curling his hand around her waist, he presses his fingers to the small of her back, pulling her closer. So close that he’s practically grinding into the warmth of her cunt and so _little_ separates them and he knows he’s behaving like an animal, but the needy whimpers that fall from her lips only beg for _more_ —

And every last cell in his body is demanding that he _give it to her._

“Here’s the difference between us, Rey.” His voice is unrecognizable now, husky and deep as he pins her to the tree. “We may be equals in every other way, but only an Alpha can make you quiver like this.” His cock grinds deep to slot between her legs, and she spreads wider for him with a gasp. Utterly wanton. “Only an Alpha can make this needy little thing _throb.”_ His finger presses into her gland again, drawing a keen from the vocal chords beneath. His pretty little instrument. “Only an Alpha —” he begins to rut against her again, “can fill every inch — of that hungry — Omega — cunt — with a _knot.”_

This is dangerous. He understands, distantly, that they are still in the woods — still at the _camp_ — but everything is crowded out by the sounds and sensations of the girl pinned against his body. By the scent of her need, demanding that he satisfy her.

“You’re craving it now, aren’t you?” he hisses. “My knot.”

“You don’t — ah.” She rolls her hips against him roughly in search of more friction. “You don’t know what I —”

“Don’t I?” He kisses just at the corner of her mouth — licking at the softness of her lower lip before pulling it lightly between his teeth. “It’s all over you. Your scent, your sounds — you can’t get enough of me.” 

He gives a deliberately slow thrust against her cunt and revels in the moan it draws out of her, a shuddering sound against his lips. 

Her voice is little more than a breathy sigh. “Is that what you think?” 

“Yes. Because you don’t want just any Alpha, do you? Only _I_ can give you what you need.” 

“Then show me.” She looks so wild, spread against the tree for him like this. Completely his. “Show me, Ben. Please.” 

He wants to fucking _devour_ her.

His mind is spinning, scrambling to figure out the quickest way to have her — to get her clothes off, to get _inside_ of her — when there is the sound of young men laughing some distance away. 

Rey goes completely still against the trunk. 

A few terrible, heart-pounding moments pass as the interlopers clamber through the nearby trees. They stand there, frozen (his hands still gripping her hips, because she is his, _his, his)_ until the voices start to fade and silence falls over the woods once more.

When he looks at her again, he is horrified to see the panic in her eyes. As though she’s only just realizing what they have been doing. It’s enough— _just_ enough to draw Ben back to his senses a little as well. 

His fingers uncurl from the soft swells of her hips reluctantly. As if his body itself knows this is where he belongs. Her mouth parts like she might protest—but in the end, she merely watches as he takes a step back. As he puts a bit of head-clearing distance between them. 

She’s still in danger, out here like this. Danger from others _besides_ him.

He’s a little sick with himself for not sending her back sooner. For mauling her so carelessly in these woods. Stirring up her scent like a dinner bell. 

“Fuck, Rey, I —” He scrambles for his bearings, even as his eyes catch the faint line of his teeth along her collarbone in the moonlight. The sight of it sends a hot jolt through his entire body. “I don’t know what came over me.”

Her face falls slightly, and he knows she’s mistaken his meaning. Rey begins to move away, but he grabs for her wrist to pull her back. 

Her cheeks are warm and soft as his hands find her face, cupping and tilting until she is his for the taking. He presses his mouth to hers gently this time, and she leans into it—tiny sounds of pleasure escaping their kiss as her little fingers grip the front of his shirt. 

When he lets her go, quietly urging her to head back to her own side of camp, she agrees without argument.

_Like a good Omega._

His fingers find hers, lingering until her steps make it impossible to hold onto them — and then they slip away as she disappears into the night.

Gone.

Ben groans, a noise of pure frustration. Her scent still clings to his clothes, his skin, his _tongue._ He closes his eyes, if only to concrete the memory of her hands and lips in his brain. To memorize the warmth between her legs against his clothed cock, knowing that sliding it inside her will be that much sweeter. 

It's hard to remain rooted to the spot when every fiber of his being demands that he _follow_ her _._ That he finish what they started here. It both terrifies and enraptures him, that her mere presence could make him do and say all sorts of things. Things he never thought himself capable of. 

If she ever speaks to him again—and _oh,_ how he hopes she speaks to him again—he would very much like to see what else this Omega can make him do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew boy. 👀


	6. Think You’re Swell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO IT HAS BEEN 84 YEARS AND WE ARE SORRY ❤️

“Hold still.”

Poe makes a face, huffing out a breath as he stops his squirming. “This is stupid.”

“It won’t kill you to wear a tie,” Ben tells him.

He knows the grumbling is a product of nerves—the thought of dancing in a public space with dozens of eyes on them likely the height of anxiety for a pubescent Alpha. Ben can’t really say he blames them.

He is also fairly nervous about this dance.

He didn’t really sleep last night, thinking of her soft hands and her warm body. Her scent still coats his skin, even now, and he has found himself pressing his nose to his shoulder thoughtlessly throughout the entire day.

And now he will have to see her again.

He can’t stop thinking about the way he acted. So very unlike himself, and yet it felt so _right_ in that moment. Something about her brings out a side of him that he’s never experienced. 

He wonders if she regrets it now, in the light of day. He wonders if she will think he is little more than an animal—which is how he’d practically _acted._ He is so afraid that she won’t even speak to him now, with the way he behaved. 

“We should just sneak out.”

Poe’s barely masked whispers draw Ben out of his anxious musings. “No one is sneaking out.”

“But it’s going to be so _lame,”_ Snap whines.

“This is your last night at camp,” Ben tells them. “You should try and enjoy it. Make friends. Have a good time.”

“Besides,” Gwen chimes in, “your boyfriend will be there.”

Poe makes some disgruntled sound, but it lacks the heat of times prior. “He’s _not_ my boyfriend,” he grumbles.

“None of that,” Ben chides. “Let’s try to get through _one_ night without fighting, okay?”

There’s a collective muttering of _yes, Moose—_ and Ben is astounded to find it doesn’t bother him as much as it has in days past. He might actually be starting to like these little gremlins.

Finn tugs at his tie. “We look like penguins.”

“You look sharp,” Ben offers, opening the door to their cabin so he can begin to herd them towards the recreation hall. “I bet the Omegas will be lining up to dance with you.”

He notices Poe blushing, but he keeps his mouth shut, actually finding it a little sweet. It’s enough to distract him from his own Omega trouble. 

Mostly.

The music playing in the recreation center reaches them before the sight of the building itself, rising at the top of the hill. Holdo has decked out the exterior in streamers and paper chains. It looks tacky to Ben, but the kids are unexpectedly taken with the sight, gleefully pointing out the group crafts on display at the entrance. Not for the first time, Ben thinks he is a little closer to understanding why Holdo and Leia have dedicated their retirement to running this place. 

But the outdoor decorations are nothing compared to the transformation of the recreation hall’s interior.

The usual chairs, tables and bean bags have been cleared for a makeshift dance floor. Glittery backdrops have been hung across the walls, blocking out the evening sun so that the only source of light is the glow from lines of paper globes that have been strung from the ceiling. In the corner, Maz is manning an impromptu DJ table, two large speakers blasting some child-safe contemporary rock. At the edges of the room, groups of young teens have already begun to form, comparing outfits and glancing anxiously at the kids across the room.

Ben isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed that Rey’s troop hasn't arrived yet. 

“This looks boring,” Snap declares. 

Finn tugs at his tie, already coming loose around his neck. “How long do we need to be here again?”

“As long as the dance lasts,” Ben says firmly. “And you all need to dance at least one song with an Omega before the end of the night. As for _you—_ “ He glares at his two biggest troublemakers, already eyeing up the refreshment table nearby. “That will turn into _three_ dances if I catch either of you throwing food.”

Gwen looks predictably disgusted at this prospect, but Poe only rubs at the back of his neck, glancing nervously at the door. _Damnit_. Ben is suddenly very grateful that camp is almost over, now that his most effective threat is starting to lose its power.

“If we have to dance with Omegas, then you need to dance with one too,” Snap says grumpily.

“Yeah,” Finn chimes in. “You and Sunshine should have to look stupid in front of everyone too.”

Ben can’t help the way his eyes dart fruitlessly around the room again. She’s definitely still not here. 

He clears his throat. “I suppose that’s fair.”

He’s trying not to think about the fact that she might want nothing to do with him now. Trying not to dwell on everything he said, everything he did—everything he did to _her—_ well. Actually, that part he’s dwelling on quite a bit. 

He can’t seem to _stop_ dwelling on that part.

He encourages the boys to mingle, and he watches them shuffle awkwardly toward the other groups they’ve bonded with over the last two weeks. There’s no fighting now, thankfully, and he even catches Gwen and Poe laughing about something from across the room. 

He might really end up missing these damn kids. 

He presses himself up against a wall, watching them interact from a distance. The dark backdrop hanging there is painted like the night sky, and he blends into it perfectly with his dark jeans and his black button-down. It’s easier here, to keep out of sight. Easier to hide the way his heart is pounding in his chest or the way his fists clench with nervous energy. 

What if she is disgusted with him? He isn’t sure he could even blame her. He’s trying to believe that he hadn’t been completely himself—that it had been the thrill of the hunt which made him crush her against that tree. But even now, he feels some dark, forbidden part of himself stirring at the memory.

And not with disgust. 

Every time he shuts his eyes, he is assailed by the most tantalizing images of her. Arching uncontrollably beneath his roaming hands… offering him the softness of her body... gasping, _oh_ , she had _gasped his name—_ and the same unknown hunger that had been awoken the night before reaches for the memory. _His Omega._ She had been so sweet and willing. She had been _his._

But she isn’t his. Ben’s fists clench so hard that his palms start to sting with the bite of his fingernails. She isn’t his Omega— she’s not even his _girlfriend_ —and he didn’t have any right to touch her as he had last night. Hell, he doesn’t even have the right to _think_ about her the way he’s been imagining her.

“Someone’s being a grumpy Gus.”

Ben almost jumps out of his dress shoes. Thankfully, Amilyn doesn’t seem to notice as she sidles up beside him, sipping punch from a little plastic cup. 

Ben huffs out an irritated sigh. “I’m just staying out of the way.”

“Don’t feel like dancing?”

“You know I’m not a dancer.”

She laughs a little. “You were quite the dancer at my wedding.”

“I was also very drunk,” he grumbles. “I sort of had to be, to get through my mother’s second wedding.”

“We all knew you were having a great time. You weren’t fooling anyone.” Her eyes slide over to watch his reaction. “Just like you haven’t been fooling anyone this week.”

Ben carefully looks back at the crowd and doesn’t respond.

“She’s very happy you agreed to be a counselor this summer, you know,” Holdo adds, when he doesn’t take the bait.

He snorts. “She didn’t exactly give me a choice.”

“That’s not true. She merely suggested it would look very good on your applications to grad school.”

“To a school on which _she_ is part of the board.”

She laughs. “Leia has her fingers in many pots.”

Ben grimaces, trying to ignore the obvious innuendo there. “Well, I’m here.”

“It’s an amazing thing, really.” Amilyn smiles softly to herself as she returns her attention back to the mingling preteens. “All these kids learning about themselves. Learning about each other. It’s important work we’re doing here. I’m happy to be a part of it.”

Ben’s mouth forms a tight line. “I suppose.”

“Without guidance, they could grow up to be just another brutish Alpha. Just another helpless Omega. So many _boundaries_ we place on one another. On ourselves. Never taking the time to know what we need from each other.”

_Just another brutish Alpha._

He feels a twinge of guilt as he thinks back to his behavior the night before, shifting nervously. 

“What if they act like a brute even _with_ guidance?”

Amilyn raises an eyebrow as she gives him a curious look. “What do you mean?”

“I just…” He rubs at the back of his neck. “Hypothetically, what if someone spent their entire life acting one way, and then they met someone that made them act completely _different._ What would you think that meant?”

She stares back at him for several moments, the barest of smiles finally curling at her mouth before she turns to look back at the crowd.

“When I first met your mother, she intimidated the hell out of me. She had just been appointed to the education committee. Her first day, I watched her put a room full of Alpha congressmen right in their place. I’ll never forget the look on their faces.” A dreamy smile plays across her lips. “I’d never met someone so fiercely independent. So intelligent. And somehow, she was also the most beautiful Omega I’d ever seen.”

Ben can’t help but grimace. “Can we skip ahead to whatever point you’re trying to make here?”

She ignores him with a wave of her hand. “You have to understand that it’s only natural for an Alpha to want to take care of their Omega. But it almost felt… disrespectful, to presume Leia needed anything like that from me. I think it’s safe to say that many of an Alpha’s natural instincts toward their Omegas seem rather disrespectful at first glance.”

He groans and passes a hand over his face. “Even further ahead, please.”

“This is important.” She turns to him, looking very serious. “For an Alpha, there is no greater honor than when an Omega entrusts them with the responsibility of meeting their needs. It only becomes brutish when we break that trust—but I know you, Moose.” She reaches out and squeezes his hand. “You won’t do anything of the sort to her.”

A blush heats his cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Amilyn only winks at him. “She’s a remarkable girl, our Sunshine. Don’t you think?”

 _You have no idea,_ Ben barely manages to keep from responding.

“I’m just saying,” she goes on, “I think she might appreciate if a nice Alpha like yourself asked her to dance.”

He can’t help the flutter of nerves in his stomach, his anxiety over seeing her again bubbling up into his throat. He swallows it back down heavily. “You think?”

“I do.” Amilyn nods towards the crowd beyond. “But why don’t you ask her yourself?”

Ben thinks his heart might actually stop beating in the few seconds it takes him to process what she’s suggesting.

His head snaps toward the crowd. It’s already considerably larger than it was when they arrived. Kids have started to gather in the middle of the floor, pairing off and imitating the awkward shuffle Ben performed here earlier that week. 

Even so, it only takes a moment for his eyes to find her.

She has traded her camp uniform for a dress. It flutters around her knees, a lightweight fabric that is tied around her waist with a belt. Ben knows for a fact now that his hands can nearly swallow the width of that waist. That it was perfectly designed for him to wrap his fingers around and hold still while he—while they—

His heart resumes its rhythm at about twice the normal speed.

She hasn’t spotted him yet. He knows this from the easiness in the slope of her shoulders—bare in her tiny dress, and not tense with awareness the way they would be if she knew her Alpha was standing a stone’s throw away. She is leaning down to speak to the red-headed boy Dameron has been so taken with, a secretive smile curling her lips. 

She straightens. Her eyes flick to the door. No one else notices the way her hand rises to her throat, rubbing at her itchy gland.

Ben notices. It must be burning. Even from here, he can see how inflamed it is, that tiny patch of skin beneath her ear. His chest aches with how badly he longs to walk over there and _soothe_ it. He can think of about a hundred different ways he would like to do exactly that.

Amilyn nudges at him with a knowing smile. “Go.”

He thinks he answers her, but he can’t be sure. His feet are already moving, falling one in front of the other as he weaves through the crowd of awkwardly dancing teens.

Almost as if he’s tied on a string. 

Rey scents him before she sees him. He can see it in the way her spine straightens and her shoulders go tense. She turns her head, peering over her shoulder and giving him just a hint of her full mouth, a peek of her bright eyes that glitter in the pulsing lights. 

He touches her elbow—so lightly it’s _just_ there, just enough to feel the warmth of her skin. He leans in to murmur an invitation, breathing in the sweet scent of her that has permeated every nerve ending he possesses. That clings to him long after she’s gone.

“Dance with me.”

She pulls at her bottom lip with her teeth, even as her body tilts toward him. “Not going to send me back to bed this time?”

 _Not unless I can go with you._ Ben’s fingers slip into hers, and he only pulls a _little bit,_ but she follows his lead as if she’s thought about this too. As if she wants to be near him as much as he does her. 

“I think you’re capable of picking your own bedtime,” he murmurs.

“You seemed pretty ready to take me to bed yourself last night.” 

The reminder of his actions the night before is like a punch to the stomach. His grip tightens around her waist. “I shouldn’t have acted that way.” 

He doesn’t miss the way her face falls, her eyes averting to the floor. “Oh.”

“No—I just...” Ben swallows thickly as he scrambles to correct himself. “I don’t normally behave that way.”

She's still not looking at him. “I didn’t mean to put you in an awkward position.”

“What?” He makes a frustrated sound. He’s so _bad_ at this. Whatever _this_ is. “No, I—” He breathes in deep through his nostrils. “I shouldn’t have acted that way out in the open, where anyone could find us. But that is the _only_ thing that occurred last night that I regret. Do you understand?” 

He watches in real time as realization dawns on her. Her pleasure can be seen in the slight widening of her eyes, in the burst of her scent that he can nearly taste in the air.

 _She feels it too._

Rey gives a slow nod. “I understand.”

His heart is pounding so loud, Ben doesn’t think he can hear anything else. For a few moments, they say nothing—swaying to the low tones of whatever slow pop pours from the speakers, Ben minding his feet and doing his very best not to step on hers. 

He is so lost in the feel and scent of her—following his lead, matching him step for step—that he almost doesn’t hear her next words.

“So you meant what you said, then? Last night in the woods.”

Ben’s mouth goes a little dry. He pulls her closer, so that the campers dancing around them won’t hear. “Which part?”

“About knowing what I want.” She leans up to speak in his ear, very softly. “Bringing me to bed. Filling me up with your knot.”

Heat flares in his belly, and Ben wets his lips. “I meant a lot more than that.”

This is dangerous. They’re not alone here, as they were last night. And the way that she’s looking up at him—the way she _smells—_ it’s arousing urges in him that would require them to be somewhere far away from this place. Alone. For several days, even.

Rey’s eyes tell him she’s thinking the same thing. Tipping her face up closer, so that he can taste the words as they leave her mouth, she tells him, “I want you to do it all to me.”

Ben misses the next beat in the song. His feet stumble over themselves, sending them both sideways. Unwilling to let go of the girl in his arms, his misstep causes them to knock into a pair of much smaller bodies dancing beside them.

 _“Watch it,_ Moose—!”

He looks down at the smaller body he’s nearly just run over. There is a flash of orange hair from an Omega who, to his great shock, is currently dancing with his very own star troublemaker. Ben’s mouth parts a little in surprise, then curls into a grin as he ducks his head in apology. “I’ll be more careful.”

He watches Poe move Hux away from them, still murmuring quietly back and forth as they sway in time to the music. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” Ben mutters. 

Rey laughs. “Even teen Alphas are overly protective of their Omegas.”

Ben gives her a pointed look, eyes brushing along the lines of her face before they settle on her mouth. “I’m learning it doesn’t get better with age.”

She tugs her lip between her teeth. It looks so pink. So _soft._ Ben suddenly knows he needs to bring her somewhere else— _anywhere_ else, as long as they can be alone. 

“I heard a rumor that might interest you,” she says suddenly.

His brow furrows, caught off guard. “A rumor?

Her fingertips brush at the nape of his neck, her nails scratching lightly beneath his hair as his eyes flutter a bit in response. “I heard that someone was breaking into the pool again tonight after lights out.”

“Did you.”

“Mhm.” There’s a heat in his chest that spreads deeper as her thumb slides upward, catching the gland just below his ear. “And I know how you feel about breaking the rules.”

His hands tighten at her waist. “I would have to punish this troublemaker, if I caught her sneaking out again.”

“She might need you to teach her a lesson.” Her voice is so airy he might almost miss it.

“I’d probably have to put her back in bed myself.”

“I hope you aren’t too rough with her.”

He yanks her forward, just a little too close. “I have a feeling she can handle it a little rough.”

Looking up at him through her lashes, Rey curls her lips in a grin. “I have a feeling you might be right.”

They’ve stopped dancing. For a moment, they are standing still, hardly noticing when the song ends. It doesn’t dawn on Ben that it’s over until the sharp pulse of some upbeat song begins to pound through the speakers, and he looks around to find the kids dancing with a lot more energy now.

For a moment, he hesitates. His pulse throbs in his ears, his blood _roaring_ for him to bring her somewhere else. Somewhere that he can touch her for as long as wants to, _wherever_ he wants to. He knows, now, that Rey would let him.

It requires every ounce of self-control in his body to release her from his grip. But he manages. 

There is still another hour of the dance to get through. Ben knows he needs to make sure that Gwen doesn’t pour the bowl of punch over Poe’s head, or that Poe doesn’t embarrass himself too much in front of the little red-headed Omega he’s become so infatuated with.

He can be patient. There will be plenty of time to make good on his promises later, when he accepts her invitation. When he finally, _finally_ has her to himself. 

He is almost able to force himself to walk away from her when she suddenly closes the distance between them again. Rising up on her toes, she brushes her lips across his cheek in a kiss that is far too chaste for the heated exchange they just shared.

It still doesn’t fail to leave his stomach squirming with pleasure.

In a daze, he returns to Holdo, who is watching him with a knowing smirk. Ben doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care about the kids, who have paused in their dancing to whoop and holler, peppered with calls of _Sunshine and Mooooose!_

He is going to kiss her again later. At the pool, under the starlight, where they will be blessedly, completely alone.

And this time… he won’t let her get away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bet they play Marco Polo wholesomely 
> 
> (Also we started chapter 7 today and I stg we are finishing this story within the week if it’s the death of us)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> If you want to hear us shout about reylo, cats, or our general gross love for each other, follow us on Twitter!  
> [KyloTrashForever](https://mobile.twitter.com/KTF_Reylo) | [ohwise1ne](https://twitter.com/ohwise1ne)
> 
> Come say hi on our tumblrs!  
> [KyloTrashForever](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kylotrashforever) | [ohwise1ne](https://ohwise1ne.tumblr.com/)


End file.
